


turn the sky black into a sky blue

by thispieceofmind



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A/B/O verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom!Harry, Knotting, M/M, Omega!Harry, alpha!louis, bc lbr there's not enough of that, soulbonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 23:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thispieceofmind/pseuds/thispieceofmind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry forgets that noses exist. Louis is a badass motherfucker. They bang. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“I’ve been in love with you since I dropped my books in the hallway and you made fun of me when you picked up my John Green novel off the ground.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	turn the sky black into a sky blue

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends I have been working on this for way too long. hopefully it will trigger the end of the horrifying bottom!louis era and spark a change. together we can do this. no but seriously i hope you like it because it's been weighing me down and it feels great to finally have it out. :DDDD

**turn the sky black into a sky blue**

Sometimes, Harry will sit in the courtyard of his school on days where it’s nice out, and he’ll watch. He’ll watch during the lunch hour, his boys at his side, not speaking too much. He’ll robotically eat his sandwich and chew slowly, seeing a little bit of everything. There’s a group of omegas who always sit together, seemingly skittish and wide-eyed all the time. There’s four alphas who never leave each others’ sides. (It used to be seven. Little by little, they became one of the couples who have their hands twined with an omega’s.) Betas scatter themselves. 

Harry watches Liam and Zayn – Liam’s strong arm always around Zayn’s shoulders or his waist, Zayn’s soft eyelashes and the way he _looks_ at his mate, the little scar on the junction of Zayn’s shoulder that hasn’t quite faded yet from when Liam bonded with him back when he and Zayn were just fourteen. 

Harry watches. 

Most days, though, he’ll let his thigh brush Louis’ and tries not to breathe too deep. Louis will touch his neck or his wrist and sometimes the inside of his knee. He’ll laugh at Niall laughing at Louis, and he’ll tease Zayn for being so smitten even though he wants that, wants it so badly it aches. 

School isn’t so terrible. 

** * 

On the fourth Monday in December, Zayn and Liam don’t show up to school, and everyone knows why. They have their suppressants timed, but every once and a while, the dates get screwed up, and Zayn will go into heat a day late or the medicine just isn’t strong enough to last for Liam’s rut. Not everyone does it like they do, some people choose to never go into heat, to never feel that niggling ache of desire and desperation to fuck or be fucked, but Zayn and Liam, they _do._

So, Harry sits with at lunch with just Louis and Niall, smile falling when Niall says, “What’s it like, being on suppressants?”

And well. Harry can’t answer that. He’s not on them. But he won’t say anything if he doesn’t have to, and Louis speaks up before he would even have a change. “Not terrible.” He shrugs, and Harry watches him. “Kinda sucks when you want a good fuck, but. I suppose it’s better than going crazy for four days with no one around 24/7 to make it better.”

Niall laughs. “I guess. Glad I don’t have to deal with that shit. Beta life; I feel so average. Then again, at least I can have a wank whenever I need ta.” 

Louis lets out a loud cackle, “Amen to that, mate. Haz and I have got it rough then.”

Harry flushes bright pink and stares down at his sandwich. “Erm, I’m not. I’m not on them?” He hates this a lot. He hates the way Louis makes him squirm.

“What? But you’re an omega, Harry. I’ve smelt it since they day I met you, and that was like, two years ago.” Louis looks confused, and Harry shifts around on the cheap metal chair that the lunchroom supplies.

“I know, I am. But I just don’t take them.”

“What?” Niall booms. And oh, Harry’s cringing. Why does he always have to be so damn loud? “You’re not on–” Louis, bless him, slaps a hand over his mouth. 

“Niall,” Louis starts, sharp, almost a little snide but only because Harry knows that he looks like he’s about to shit himself with embarrassment. He doesn’t need a mirror to know his own expression. “Indoor voice,” he whispers. 

Niall nods. “Wait, you’re not on them? Why?”

Harry squirms some more, and Louis places a gentle hand on his thigh as to soothe him. (When in reality it makes everything a lot more uncomfortable.) “I haven’t, um. I haven’t had my first heat yet, so. No point.” He’s stiff and awkward and well, what else is new. He hates this, he hates it so much. He’s sixteen years old, and he’s not had his first heat yet. He tries to tell him that it’s a good thing he doesn’t have to pop a pill every morning, but. It’s _embarrassing_. 

Louis pats his head gently, scoots closer to him. “It’s all right, Haz. Doesn’t mean a thing.”

Harry wants to say something like, _but alphas aren’t attracted to me because I don’t_ smell _nice enough, and I’m not as attracted to alphas as I_ will _be, and I want a mate and I really want to be fucked god damn it._ But. His mouth stays shut. 

He eats the rest of his sandwich. 

** * 

Harry feels it when he wakes up on the second Tuesday in January. He really shouldn’t go to school. His cock is tenting up the duvet, and whatever is running through him is like nothing he’s ever felt before. There’s a thin layer of sweat making his back stick to the sheets, and he wipes at his forehead with the duvet. His body is hot, like how he feels on those two days in the middle of July when England actually gets warm. He sits up with a heavy head, feeling his pulse in his neck and thighs and on the inside of his wrist. 

He grabs a pair of looser jeans, a hoodie that’s way too big and dips past his waist, and a henley. He makes his way into the shower, looking down at his naked body, sweaty from how he slept, cock bobbing between his thighs. He piles up his clothes on the closed toilet seat and turns on the shower hot, stepping in and paying no mind to his sweaty hairline or the dirt under his fingernails. 

Harry grabs his cock in his hand, leaning against the blue tiles of his shower, letting the water fall down his front and his fist move slowly up and down. His eyes flutter shut, and he lets himself think. He doesn’t focus on just one person, but his mind wanders to how it’s _happening,_ and he’s going into heat and he’s going to get _fucked_. And oh, he wants it so bad. He wants someone between his thighs and he wants to be on his hands and knees. He wants to be _touched._

He’s jerking himself off with absolutely zero finesse, body hot all over, thumb running over the slit. It doesn’t take so long for him to come onto his fist. He manages to clean himself up a bit without his thoughts tapering off too far, and once he’s out of the shower, he’s got a towel on his hips and another one wiping away the condensation on his mirror. His cheeks are flushed. His eyes are bright yet dark. 

By the time he’s got his jeans on, he’s hard again. 

** *

The walk to school is extremely uncomfortable, and he can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching him as he ambles down the sidewalk, prick tucked painfully in his boxers, blessedly hidden by his big hoodie. He goes to his locker to exchange some books in his backpack, says hello to Niall who merely gives him a big smile and a clap on the shoulder as they walk to first period. By the time he’s there, he’s _definite_ people are watching him. He’s sure at least five of the guys in the class are staring him down, and even his teacher is giving him a funny look. Harry stares down at his crotch, but no one can see a fucking thing if he can’t, so he shakes the feeling off.

Halfway through the class, they’re doing busy work that Harry finished rather early, so after doodling all over the TUESDAY block in his assignment pad, he raises hand to go to the bathroom. His teacher complies with a soft, warm smile, and it kind of creeps him out, because teachers shouldn’t smile at you like that. It feels like he knows something. Harry stumbles out of the classroom with fumbling feet and stops at the water fountain to get a drink, chest heaving and back starting to sweat a little, just from being flustered. 

He doesn’t hear any movement, but when he stands up and wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his jumper, there are four guys who are a lot bigger than him crowding the water fountain. He wonders how the hell he didn’t hear that, but Louis always tells him how easy he is to sneak up on. 

“Harry Styles,” one of them says, and Harry takes a whiff of the air and knows right away that they’re alphas. And shit. That’s what Harry’s been forgetting all day. “We can smell it on you, y’know.”

Fuck. Bloody fucking shit. The alphas from lunch who fuck whatever’s got a hole. 

Harry goes for coy. “Smell what?”

All of them frown. “Do you think we’re dumb?” a burly blonde asks. 

“Not at all,” Harry peeps. “Um, no.”

“Damn right you don’t,” another says, and his forehead is really disproportionate to his face, and it’s making this situation a lot less intimidating that in should be, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry knows that he could easily get punched or kneed in the balls or raped. So he focuses on the biceps that are the size of his thighs and bites his lip. 

“You shouldn’t have come to school, Styles. You know we can’t help ourselves,” the first one says. 

And _no,_ Harry doesn’t know that at all, but he backs up a little further against the wall and wonders when he got so dumb. 

One of them presses up against him, body harsh and unforgiving. His breath ghosts along his ear, and it sounds of nightmares. “We’ll take whatever we want from you. That’s what omegas are meant for. All that soul-bonding? Complete bullshit. You’re meant to be used, to be fucked, and that’s it.”

Harry closes his eyes and prays for something to make this go away. One of them bites his neck, his collarbone, and he wills and wills for something to change, still gnawing on his lip and thinking that if anything is going to make his hard on go away while he’s in heat, it’s this. Seconds pass, and then his wrists are being gathered up, one on each side, and they start to pry him away from the wall.

“Where are you taking me?” Harry says softly.

“Shut up,” forehead answers. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Can’t fuck you in the hallway, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” another says. 

Harry’s trembling now, his hands shaking. The grip around his wrists tighten, and Harry takes a deep breath and does what they say, knowing he’d lose whatever fight he tried to put up. He wills his breathing to steady and looks down the corridor, noting the corner that they have to turn and crossing his fingers that someone, anyone is there. His eyes stay wide open and his hands turn into fists as he trudges, and as the go around the bend, he feels his heart lift and then drop like a roller coster. 

No one’s there, of course, and Harry is so close to having a panic attack that it burns in his chest. They make it about a hundred meters more until a door to a class room is opening, and a lad is stepping out. He moves in the opposite direction, not even looking Harry’s way, until he stops two tiles in and turns on his heel. Louis. 

“Harry?” he mutters. “What the fuck are they doing with you?”

Harry opens his mouth to speak up, but forehead is against his ear whispering, “You say a thing, and I’ll bash your head against this locker, rip your friend apart, and fuck you while you bleed out and he watches.”

Harry’s mouth closes at once, but he looks at Louis with pleading eyes and thinks _help me help me please help me._ Louis looks confused, just for a minute, but steps closer to the five of them, gripping the two wrists that are wrapped around Harry’s. “I’d let go, if I were you,” he mutters, and he sounds terrifying. His eyes are wild, and Harry can see the hold he has around the two alphas’ wrists. It looks red and sharp, and Harry’s sure his heart is going to beat out of his chest, the thump too loud for his ears and too loud for the dead silence of the hallway. 

“Oh really?” forehead mutters. “And what are you gonna do about it? You look about half my size.”

Louis scoffs. “And what about when I scream and my history teacher walks out of that classroom right there? Then what? What are you gonna say to Mr. Wright when he sees you twisting poor Harry’s wrists? That you were helping him off to the toilet? No, you arsehole. Let go of him.”

Almost straight away, the alphas drop Harry’s wrists and he scurries forward. Louis rests a gentle hand on the small of Harry’s back for a moment before surging forward and keeping the two alphas’ wrists gathered in his hands. He gets closer to their ears and mutters, “You touch him again, and I won’t hesitate to snap your wrists.” He presses down even harder on the insides of their arms before letting go and turning on his heel, wrapping a swift arm around Harry’s waist and leading them out of the school at a fast pace. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis says once they’re safely in the front seats of his car. 

“I –sorry. I didn’t know–” Harry starts, and he’s at a complete loss for words. He doesn’t know where to begin, how to thank him, how he’s supposed to say that he’d really like to snog the shit out of him right now, how he can subtly mention his raging boner. 

“Don’t apologize, babe. Just tell me why you came to school? You know that’s not safe,” Louis reminds him. 

“I completely forgot about noses? I guess? I knew that people were looking at me all weird, but I forgot what it was until one of those alphas told me that they could smell it. I forgot about smelling.”

Louis turns in the driver’s seat to look at him better, huge, fond smile spreading across his face. “You’re ridiculous. Of all things?” he laughs. “You’re adorable.”

Harry looks at his lap and blushes, messing with his hair and wondering what’s next. “Do you mind taking me home? I really don’t think I should stay at school, given that...”

“Of course!” Louis exclaims. He runs a hand through his fringe and shakes the dazed expression from his face. “Of course,” he repeats. “Are you gonna be okay? At home? I mean – like –”

Harry cuts him off with a chuckle, taking his hand and placing it gently on top of Louis’ on the gearshift. “I’ll be fine. I’m not very – very turned on, after that. I’ll just...” Harry trails off again. He needs to start finishing his sentences. 

“What did they say to you? When I asked you what they were doing.”

Harry bites his already raw lip. “Nothing good.”

“Harry,” Louis says sternly, and his hand is still beneath Harry’s and the car isn’t running yet. Harry needs to go home. He needs to get away from the overwhelming scent of _alpha_ and _Louis_ because this car and the boy next to him reeks of it. Disgusting. He might be getting turned on again. He’s going to continue telling himself it’s all _alpha_ and no _Louis_ , but he’s never been a good liar, not even to himself. “Tell me, please. So I know whether or not to go back to the school and clock them in the jaw.”

“Please don’t deck our classmates,” Harry says, voice a little breathy but mostly shaky. “They – what they said was terrible, okay? But I don’t need you hurting anyone.”

“But I don’t want anyone to hurt _you,_ ” Louis states firmly. 

Harry melts a little bit, and his fingers twitch under Louis’. “They told me that if I said anything, that – that they would bash my head into a locker and fuck me while I bleed and you watch. But just – don’t hurt anyone? I don’t want you in trouble. I know it’s awful but I don’t want anything else to happen. I just need to go home.”

Louis’ eyes grow to be something like cold, his hand drifting from Harry’s to the key in the ignition. He turns on the car and zooms out of the parking lot, face tense and seeming locked away. Harry doesn’t think he could find the key if he tried. 

Louis is so good at toying with his own emotions. He can be a completely open book one minute, but entirely hidden the next. Harry never seems to know if he’s getting the full picture, when it comes to Louis, if he knows what he’s really thinking. So his fingers drum on his knee, his cock gets hard in his jeans, and his shirt sticks to his back with sweat as he continues to breathe in and _not_ look at Louis. 

When they roll up into his driveway not even ten minutes later, Harry stops his fingers from drumming and wipes his forehead with his sleeve. “Thanks for the ride, Lou. I’ll see you tomorrow? Maybe? Actually, probably next week.” He forces himself to chuckle and unbuckles. He opens the door and the fresh, cold air of winter feels good on his too-hot skin. A hand on his wrist stops him from getting out. 

“Can I come in?” 

There’s a funny look in Louis’ eyes, one of the ones that he doesn’t know how to place, but Harry just asks, “What about class? This is an awfully long bathroom break.”

“I um, I texted Zayn in class that I wouldn’t be coming back, so. He told Mr. Wright, I think.”

Harry’s brow furrows. “How did you know that you wouldn’t be coming back?”

Louis’ hand squeezes Harry’s wrist gently. “Can I come in?” he asks again instead of answering. 

Harry just heaves a breath and mutters, “Sure.”

So Louis turns off the car, and they walk up his driveway, hands just brushing and breath coming out in hot puffs of steam against the cold air. Harry uses the key in his pocket to unlock his front door, and then they’re in his living room, and Louis is looking at him with that weird look in his eye, and Harry is uncomfortable and confused. Louis plops himself on the couch, and Harry blinks hard. 

“I’m just gonna go get some water,” Harry says, jerking him thumb towards the kitchen, as if a drink is going to cure his raging boner and the expression on Louis’ face. 

“Okay. If you need to, like–” Louis starts, and Harry glares at him. 

“I have some self control,” Harry tuts, but it’s only day one and he knows that in a few hours he’s going to have absolutely none. He can’t lie. 

The water does nothing to appease him, and when he walks back into his living room, surprise surprise, Louis is still there as beautiful as ever, eyebrows knit with what looks like worry and perhaps something more. “Harry,” he says. 

“Lou?” Harry responds, and this is some sort of weird language they’ve always had; they’ll say each other’s names and figure out their mood merely by their tone. Harry doesn’t know what he’s getting at. 

“This is going to sound so bizarre, but I think – I think I could hear your thoughts? In like, the hallway.”

Louis is right. It does sound bizarre. 

“Pardon?” Harry mutters, sitting across from him in the big armchair. 

Louis shakes his head at himself. “It was like– I could _feel_ it. I could feel you. As soon as I walked into school I knew something was different, and then, when I was in Mr. Wright’s class I knew it was you and that you were in trouble. So I just texted Zayn after saying I was going to the nurse to tell Wright that I wasn’t coming back, and then in the hallway you were telling me ‘please help me’ over and over again. I could hear it and it was weird and I had to tell you.”

Harry furrows his brow. “That doesn’t–”

“I think I know why though, Harry.”

Harry just heaves a sigh, waits for an explanation while reclining his neck back into the soft cushioning of the chair. 

“Do you know –” Louis cuts himself off, and Harry knows how he gets; sometimes Louis is completely overwhelmed with self-doubt, and Harry is aware that he always has something brilliant on his mind when he feels it. So Harry leans forward, across the table, and places his hand on Louis’ knee in some strange kind of encouragement. Louis looks at him with another one of the looks that he can’t distinguish. “Do you know what soulbonding is?” Louis asks. 

Harry just nods, because of course he does. He’s been hearing soppy love stories about it since he was about two, let alone the fact that Zayn and Liam are attached at the hip, and they’ve been bonded since age fourteen. Harry can’t figure out why Louis asked him this question. He’s not stupid. 

“I mean like– do you know what it entails?”

“More or less,” Harry mutters. He knows about the passion, about the sex, and about the connection that keeps you together even when you’re apart. 

“Sometimes, when you’re bonded to another person, you can hear their thoughts. You can sense when they’re in danger and when they’re happy and just – you have this _connection_ all the time, and I think–”

“But wait,” Harry says, cutting him off, shaking his head. “We’re not bonded, Louis.”

Louis brushes his fringe out of his eyes and then tugs on his hair. “I _know_. That’s what makes it so strange, but I think, I think this might be a way of telling us that... that–”

“That we should be?” Harry asks quietly. “Does stuff like that even _happen_?” he splutters. 

And don’t get him wrong. Harry has been in love with Louis since he bumped into him on his first day at his new school, dropped his books on the floor like how it happens in every television show ever, but it’s all so strange. He didn’t know that a bond could be so prominent before it’s even official; and apparently, neither did Louis. 

“I didn’t think it did,” Louis whispers softly. “Are you so opposed to the thought that it could be happening, though?”

Harry’s eyes widen because _him?_ _Opposed_ to the idea? Okay. Plus, the fact that Louis himself doesn’t seem so turned off by the idea of it either is just something else. And maybe it’s because Harry has always thought of himself as a little awkward, kind of bumbling and gangly in his ways, his speech, his movements. He’s always pushed himself out of the way when it came to people who Louis liked. He never even _considered_ , even _thought_ about that as a possibility, and yet, his hand is still on Louis’ knee, and his back hurts a little from leaning forward, and Louis is looking at him like he’s worth something more than a clap on the back or a nudge in the side. 

Harry splutters yet again. “I– no, I mean. Like.” Harry takes a deep breath, and then he decides all or nothing is really the only decision he could possibly bring himself to make at the moment. “I’ve been in love with you since I dropped my books in the hallway and you made fun of me when you picked up my John Green novel off the ground.”

Louis stares at him. 

“But I made fun of you?” Louis asks, and his voice cracks a little, so Harry smirks at him, and Louis sends him the _don’t be an asshole I’m trying to be serious_ face. It exists. Unsurprisingly enough, Harry uses that one a lot more that Louis does. 

“I know, but you actually gave me my books back. And then you let me sit with you at lunch and talked about my hair. I swooned in my head.” 

Harry has obviously given up on holding back and he’s not sure if he’s regretting it or not, because while the embarrassment is making his cheeks flush, his dick is still hard as a fucking rock. Louis is looking at him crookedly, like he can’t decide on what to say. Harry blinks harder than usual, and then Louis’ hand is on his cheek and his thumb is stroking across the skin beneath his eye. 

“Can I kiss you?” Louis asks. 

Harry flushes redder than he already is but manages to peep out, “Could we stand up first? My back, um. Hurts.”

Louis laughs at him like he always does but takes Harry’s hand from his knee and stands, petting at his palm and still chuckling as he says, “Can I kiss you in your room instead? S’warmer in there. Heat rises, you know.”

Louis rubs his shoulder with his free hand, and Harry just nods instead of giving him the confused look he would normally even though the heat is _on_ and working quite well. Maybe Harry’s just too flustered for his own good. Louis tangles their fingers together, and Harry can feel his pulse even harder in his chest. His forehead starts sweat, and he feels sticky underneath his hoodie but he lets himself be led up the stairs and into his room.

They stop adjacent to the foot of the bed, and Louis has sent Harry way too many looks that he can’t read today. Then his hand is on his cheek again, and Harry is breathing way too hard. “I can?”

Harry nods and lets the, “Please,” slip from his lips before he can even stop himself. Louis does a thing that’s a cross between a turned on smirk and full on smile, but he leans in before Harry has much time to think much else, and they’re kissing. It’s not that Harry hasn’t kissed anyone before, but. One of them was Niall and the other one he doesn’t really remember very well. He was very drunk. Now, he feels everything. Louis’ hands are on his face and his fingertips are smooth. His mouth is careful but eager and their bodies are at the distance where a stack of papers could fit between them, but Harry wants nothing more but to shred them, for nothing to get in the way. 

By the time Louis is pulling back Harry is whining low in his throat and Louis is chuckling at him again, smoothing his hair. 

“Louis, you’re not just going to leave me hangin’ are you?” Harry asks seriously, and Louis laughs agin. Harry just can’t win. 

“I don’t think you’d like that very much.”

Harry’s eyes just widen. 

“Genius, you are. I _really_ want to fuck you. In fact, I really just want you, but. I’m not about to take advantage of you. If I have to, I’ll just drive home and fuck my hand if it really comes to that.”

Harry didn’t think that his eyes could get any wider, but, here he is. “You’re a bastard,” he says instead, and kisses Louis on the mouth. “I’m in _heat._ You know what I want.”

“I know,” Louis chuckles. “You’re just fun to mess with.”

“Bastard,” Harry says again, and they’re falling into bed atop of Harry’s sheets that are messy from this morning, Harry feeling himself grow more and more desperate as the seconds slowly peel away from time. Louis laughs into his mouth and touches his hip, and Harry wants it so bad. It’s been three hours since the last time he came, and there’s a burning feeling throughout his entire body. “Lou, Lou–” Harry pants, and Louis just smiles fondly at him, pushes the hair out of his eyes. 

“What is it, babe?”

“This morning– I took, I took like, one of the pills, yeah? Like, my mum had gotten me two separate ones like, one for birth control and the other for not going to heat at all, and like– I _wanted_ it. I’ve always wanted it, so I–”

Harry is speaking gibberish. 

“So what you’re saying is that you took a pill this morning so you won’t get knocked up? Are you saying you want my knot, darling?”

Harry’s eyes just roll back into his head and he whimpers meekly, hips jutting up into Louis’ thigh and coming right in his pants when Louis palms him. Louis sends him another teasing smile but manages to strip him down without giggling, peeling off the sweatshirt that was making Harry feel like he was going to have a heat stroke and taking off the soiled jeans and pants. Louis’ hands ignore Harry’s still hard cock and brushes gently at Harry’s hole, wet with slick. 

“Did you have to sit through your class like this? All wet? You’re not familiar with it, are you lovely? Have you used your fingers?” Louis is teasing him, fingers running on the inside of Harry’s thighs. 

Harry wills himself to take a deep breath and chokes out, “I have but– I’d have lube, yeah? ‘Cause before–”

Louis stops him with a look that reads, _I know_ and his lips where his fingers were trailing just a moment before. Harry’s sure that his whole body twitches, and when Louis sucks a mark into him he has to physically restrain himself from coming again, before Louis can even do much more. 

“Please, Lou,” Harry gasps. “Please fuck me. I need it. I need it so bad, I’ve thought about it so many times.”

“You need it, Haz?” 

“Please,” he says again. “I – I want to be yours, Lou.”

“Fuck,” Louis bites, pressing one finger to Harry’s hole and rubbing it in the slick before pushing it in. Harry gasps sharply,  feeling Louis’ mouth shift from his legs to his neck, right at the place where his neck meets his shoulder. His lips press warmly, but Harry wants to feel it. He wants to feel Louis’ knot in his arse and his teeth biting into that spot, feel them together. 

“More, Lou.”

Louis is apparently done laughing at him, so he slides two more fingers into Harry and rubs at his prostate relentlessly, kissing him on his neck, still teasing, like he knows what Harry wants and how soon he wants it. Harry is grinding back unabashedly, muscles tight with the desperation that’s flooding him. He knows that he’s making noises but Louis’ teeth are scraping at his shoulder and he can’t take it anymore. 

“You gonna come again?” Louis asks, twisting his fingers up and sucking on his collarbone. 

Harry does, as soon as he says it. So there’s that. 

Update: Louis is not done laughing at him. But he does get out of his clothes finally, and he flips Harry over and fucks him too. Harry will take laughter. 

Harry’s not really expecting it so quickly, but soon his neck is fully exposed because his face is shoved onto the pillow with shut eyes and rocking hips.  Louis grips his hips with the strength from his biceps, and Harry is definitely sure that there will be bruises there all week, if they keep it up. Harry can feel the base of Louis’ cock starting swell, and he chokes out a quiet, “ _Yes_ ,” as Louis fucks him, lips moving along that spot on Harry’s neck. 

“You want this, right? It’s not just– you want the bond?”

Harry can’t believe he’s actually _asking_ that, but. “I love you so much,” Harry groans. “I’ve loved you for years. I’m yours, Lou. I’ve always been yours.”

Louis bites him right then and there, and it’s like Harry can feel them coming together, two souls becoming one while Louis fucks him like he’s wanted for so long. 

Harry comes again before Louis does, going a bit limp as Louis keeps his strong hold on him, his knot expanding to it’s full and catching on Harry’s hole, releasing come inside. It’s a _lot,_ and yet, Harry loves it. He lets himself relax after Louis lets out a final breath, shifting their still connected bodies onto their sides, breathing a little heavy. 

“We’re mates, Lou,” Harry breathes. 

Louis laughs at him again, but in a refreshing way, voice light and warm and happy. He gingerly reaches out at the bite mark on Harry’s neck, and Harry winces but then relaxes as he feels the steady rise and fall of Louis’ chest against his back. “Mates,” he repeats. 

“You smell nice,” Harry says. 

Louis chuckles and breathes into his neck, sucking gently and murmuring, “You too, babe.”

He pets at Harry’s hip and feels the semi that’s resting against his thigh. “You needa go again?” he teases. 

“Give me ten minutes,” Harry says. 

“Ten?” Louis asks dubiously, shifting a bit inside of Harry. “You’re gonna come again, darling.”

Harry just keens and mutters, “Five, probably. Something like that.”

Louis hums and starts biting at his jaw. Bastard. He can see the doodle in his assignment pad now, in the free space from all the classes he’s going to miss these next few days. 

Tuesday–Friday:  ♡  Heat Week!!!!  ♡ In script. Naturally. 

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think!! comments and kudos mean so much i'm on tumblr at eroticlou and on twitter @androgynouslou


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